


Cosmos

by dhyanshiva



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Canon Related, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva
Summary: Two years after their breakup, Kartik never fails to dial Aman's number but always cuts it on the first ring. Even after all this time, Aman is the number his finger hovers over, his favourite contact. But will Kartik ever be able to say what he yearned to and look Aman in the eye?Two years on and Aman doesn't hope to ever have his questions answered. He sees the calls but never picks up. He doesn't know what he expects to happen and so, lets it go. Yet, the desire to know never leaves the back of his mind, as much as he tries to push it down.Will fate put them face to face once more or have their paths separated forever?
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 24
Kudos: 60





	1. Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> This is a continuation, an alternate route for an AU that @ayushmannbhava and Taps wrote - hope it fits!
> 
> This is a 4 part piece. I'm posting this first chapter after Andrew (Hozier) and Alex's live stream for Childline and ISPCC. This is a very unprecedented predicament and is doubly dangerous for young children and adolescents who are trapped in unsafe environments with no one to turn to. It's in times like these that organisations such as Childline are put under extra pressure, with limited resources making it worse. They performed a beautiful set and one of the songs fit just right and as a whole, it was for a crucial cause.  
> It's linked to the topic of this piece and the coincidence astounds me.
> 
> Do leave a comment and/ or a kudos to let me know what you think!
> 
> Dhyan x

Aman first noticed a change in Kartik a few days after their return to Delhi. It was unusual to see after the euphoria and relief that was so evident – in them both – after the decriminalisation had been announced. It was a gradual change and if Aman didn’t have such a keen eye, it probably would have escaped him entirely. He chose not to pry, trusting that Kartik would tell him in his own time, if need be. A month or so later, Aman could easily differentiate between two versions of his boyfriend and it genuinely confused him. Try as he might, he couldn’t gauge what the issue was. Two months on, Kartik just wasn’t the same. Of course, physically he was, but he would zone out during conversations, develop a distanced look in his eyes. Then came increased hours outside the house, returning late in the night and being back up within a few hours. It was only then that the spark began to return in Kartik’s eyes, his face became less gaunt. He seemed to bloom once more, come back to life.

Three months on and Aman came home one night to a post it note left on their dining table, in Kartik’s haphazard script. He’d felt like something was off as soon as he’d crossed the threshold into the flat, but the content of the note knocked the wind out of Aman entirely. He recalled Kartik saying he had an important task to do, a few meetings ‘promising’ that he’d be back soon. Evidently, it had been a lie and Kartik had never intended to return. It explained the emptiness of his current surroundings, the distance he’d established between them last night. Yet at the same time, hundreds of questions popped up, the answers eluding him completely.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hurt you more than I already have. It’s my fault and I hope you forgive me. Take care.”

That’s it. Just 3 sentences. Aman would’ve preferred multiple punches to his solar plexus in quick succession. That pain, he could have overcome. This, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. In a daze, vision blurry, Aman stood up from where he’d collapsed and willed himself to get to the bedroom. Just a few more steps and he fell against the bedframe. It was this room that made Kartik’s absence harder to accept. The room felt like any other now, dull and without life, without a personality. Everything was in place, pristine and perfect. But no, Aman wanted disorder, colour, imperfection. He’d have given his soul to have Kartik back here, to know the answers to the many questions that ran through his mind. With his eyes stinging and throat burning, Aman fell face first onto the bed, eventually falling asleep.

Over time, Aman began to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and move forward. Initially, the days seemed to drag by till he immersed himself into his job and soon, he was caught up in the tide of change and time flew by. Two years had passed and the man from before was buried, locked away in his mind. Now, Aman Tripathi was an entirely different person. However, one thing continued to puzzle him. Each day, at 6PM, he saw Kartik’s name pop up on his phone, the incoming call lasting for one ring only, before it was ended. Aman didn’t understand. Kartik was the one who upped and left with an unsatisfactory explanation. What was he trying to do? In response, every single day, Aman yearned to pick up the call, hear Kartik’s voice. But something held him back. All this time, the cycle hadn’t been broken. Kartik stuck to one ring, and Aman watched it happen.

Then, out of the nowhere, the calls stopped - complete radio silence. Though they never amounted to anything, Aman found that he missed them. It was in this manner that a month passed. The emotions that coursed through Aman were familiar, uncomfortably so. He didn’t pay them any heed though, choosing instead to sweep them under the rug. Why hope at all? Surely nothing would come of it. Then came a day at the end of this which would turn everything on its head.

Aman stood in front of the mirror, assessing his outfit for the umpteenth time. He was more critical than usual. This event was a big deal, he knew that, but he never paid such close attention to the finer aspects to his appearance before. There was a sense of anticipation that hung in the air and the emotions it evoked made Aman strangely nostalgic. He remembered feeling like this for his and Kartik’s first date, all jittery and a smidge nervous. But why did he feel that way today? Deciding he couldn’t afford to take that train of thought right now, he adjusted his blazer on last time and left the room. Reaching the venue wasn’t an issue, he was there within 20 minutes. Upon entering the vast room, he let out a low whistle – the set up was impressive. As he was one of the first to arrive, Aman let himself observe the space and relax a little. Taking his seat, he utilised the time to reflect on how he’d made it here. To this stage in his professional life, this rung of the ladder as it were, to this event.

Frankly, Aman had become quite sick of parading about in that costume in public and decided to quit. He had potential, he knew that. It was just a matter of giving it the right outlet. He’d spent the first few weeks after his and Kartik’s return to Delhi assessing what he could do and the kind of impact he wanted to make. Yet, he never actually executed the plan. Inexplicably, it took Kartik’s departure to jolt him out of his reverie and get down to work. Keeping his heartbreak and past, the memories locked away – not forgotten, just hidden – he embarked on the journey that had led him to where he was today.

Aman had decided to start an advertising company that catered to young people who wanted to use their voice and reach out to others like them, in creative, effective ways. He knew that often, in the interest of profit and political correctness, the message(s) often got diluted or erased altogether. Hence, he and his team encouraged their contributors to pay more heed to their specific audience. They asked them to ignore larger society, to a great extent. This was about their concerns, their message. Aman knew first hand the impact his family’s ‘log kya kahenge’ chant had on him, his relationship with Kartik. Aman had cared too much for the wrong people and had nearly lost what mattered the most to him. It was a wound that never seemed to heal, the pain that those few days had caused him. As a result, he was determined to not let anyone else fall prey to the same trap.

The sound of a booming voice pulled Aman out of his thoughts and warring emotions. Looking around, he was surprised to see that the venue was almost packed. It was a sight for sore eyes, to see so many people from different fields of work come together for such an invaluable cause. It had taken time and the journey was far from over, he knew that. Nonetheless, he was glad to see that progress was being made, a collaboration and push for large scale changes, making a tangible difference. Working with corporations were independent social activists too. At that thought, Aman pulled out his phone, checking if the blog he liked to read had been updated.

It was run by a man named Ayan R. and Aman was in awe of all the work he’d done in such a short span of time, just over 2 years. Refreshing the blog, he was pleasantly surprised to read that he too would be at the event. Aman personally didn’t know anyone more deserving than him to have their effort recognised on such a platform, both as a musician and as a passionate activist. Well, Aman didn’t know this Ayan personally of course, but his experiences were something that he could relate to, the motivation and will to work in this field something he truly understood. The man was very elusive about his personal life and there weren’t any photographs either. Regardless, he looked forward to meeting him and felt that familiar spark of excitement ignite once more. This time though, it was for a stranger.

Kartik Singh made it there just in time, before the man got up on stage, microphone in hand. He looked around the venue, his fingers tracing the tattoo hidden under the beige jumper he had on. The dress code was semi - formal, which he was tremendously thankful for. With a quick glance at his assistant (his representative at these events), he disappeared, merging into the crowd. As he waded through the setup to find a darkened corner to stick to, he noted a sense of anticipation in the air, a familiar warmth enveloping him. Glancing at his watch, he almost laughed out loud. It was 6 PM. He didn’t know why he’d stopped ‘calling’ Aman over the last few weeks. It had seemed unnecessary somehow. Even today, he didn’t feel the need to do so. Without his meaning to, Kartik let his eyes roam over the crowd. As absurd as it was, he felt as if his soul was searching for someone. Eventually, he gave up, though his gaze did linger on a man at the opposite side of the room. His back was to Kartik and he was wearing a blazer in one of his favourite colours – cobalt blue. He was forced to pay attention to what was being said at the front of the room. He gave it only half his attention and pulled up his blog and typed out a new post, his mind still fixed on the stranger. Who knew what this evening would bring about?


	2. Distorted Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aman confronts Kartik and it goes exactly as the latter expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to @ayushmannbhava, my companion on the Angst Train, as we like to call it :)  
> Do check out her piece 'Milen Na Phir Kabhi' if you haven't already, it's a wonderful journey!
> 
> As always, do let me know what you thought with a comment and/ or kudos below.
> 
> Dhyan x

Aman’s posture righted itself as he heard Ayan’s name mentioned on stage. He felt a surge of pride as they listed out his most memorable achievements and talked of the significance and the impact his work had made. Aman felt his breath catch as the man was requested to come onstage to ‘say a few words’. He felt as if a bucket of water had been poured over lighted candles when a woman stepped up and said that she’d come as his representative. He listened though, as she spoke of her work alongside Ayan and her praise, appreciation and affection were evident. To see genuine respect for him as a person made Aman respect this Ayan R. more than he already did. Which in itself was an impossible feat, he’d assumed. Something told him that the blogpost wasn’t a red herring and he kept his hopes. After the most significant, ‘official’ part of the event was over, the atmosphere became a lot more casual and music began to play as everyone there began to mingle and converse, many with a drink in hand.

Aman approached the woman, Kajal, hoping he could figure out if Ayan was actually here or not. Hesitantly, he introduced himself and asked of his whereabouts. Kajal was surprised at his persistence, Aman could tell. He tried not to appear too uncomfortable as she scrutinised him for a few moments and felt a surge of relief when he detected approval and acceptance in her eyes. Her gaze shifted to someone behind him and at her calling Ayan over, Aman relaxed a little, trying not to smile too broadly. With his arm outstretched and a greeting at the tip of his tongue, he turned around.

Kartik was making his way around the room when he saw Kajal calling him over. From his vantage point, he could see her in conversation with the stranger he couldn’t seem to divert his attention from. However, as he got closer, a sense of dread began to overcome him. Something about the man’s stature seemed all too familiar. Coming to a stop behind the pair, his mind whirling as it tried to connect the dots. Just as the man turned around, everything fell into place and it was a miracle that Kartik didn’t faint then and there. It was jarring, to look into Aman’s eyes once more, their warmth and light fading the second he registered who stood before him. Kartik didn’t remember ever seeing Aman’s beautiful eyes this lifeless and cold. His name, coming from Aman, like this sounded familiar and foreign all at once. 

‘My - Kartik?”

Though said unwittingly, those two words put together, had the same effect on Kartik all this time later. He blinked as a surge of wonderful, happy memories hit him, unbidden. Without breaking eye contact, he asked Kajal for some privacy and it was only as her footsteps began to fade into the distance that he let himself show some semblance of emotion. Yes, they’d been colleagues for a while but Kajal knew him as Ayan, not Kartik Singh. Not Aman’s Kartik. Painfully aware that they were in a very public space, he glanced away and muttered a request to step outside. Turning around, he strode away, trying to find his footing after this unexpected turn of events. The rational part of his mind was panicking about how this meeting would go down. He could see it in Aman’s body language, the closed off expression. The man was still an open book to Kartik. Never though, had he been on the receiving end of Aman’s fury. Yes, they’d bickered and fought as many others do but this time, it was different. Kartik knew there was a storm coming his way and welcomed it with open arms. It felt like the universe had conspired for them to have this conversation face to face, rather than over the phone. He came to a stop in a secluded part of the gardens, far enough that they’d have some privacy but still giving Aman the space to walk off, as Kartik expected him to. With great trepidation, he gazed at the man, waiting for him to speak and address the matter.

“Why, Kartik? What happened? I know what you’ll say: nothing. But Lord knows I deserve more than that. The least you can do is tell me the truth. I need to understand what went wrong. Whatever happened in Allahabad was unexpected, painful.. but I was under the impression we’d braved the storm? How was I to know that was just the calm before a fucking tornado?”

At the use of an expletive, Kartik winced. He’d expected it though, what with the nature of this conversation. His heart broke to see tears begin to form in Aman’s eyes, his torso begin to quiver with barely tamed fury. Yet, Kartik knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. The wounds he’d inflicted on them both ran much deeper. All the useless band aids were being ripped off in one go, it was bound to hurt. Seeing Aman today, like this, caused a literal glitch in Kartik’s mind. All that he’d planned to say vanished into thin air. Seeing him so vulnerable and raw was unnerving. Usually, Aman was the more reserved between them, never one to say so much. It was his eyes that did the talking. Kartik was struck dumb and waited for him to continue.

“I can’t even bring myself to hate you. It’s impossible, you and I both know that. I stand here now, knowing that you’re Ayan but I can’t just let that preside over the fact that I’ve been in the dark for so long. Do you know how much pain I’ve gone through? I genuinely can’t find the words that could begin to describe it. I felt disoriented, lost without you by my side. It felt like you’d taken this massive part of me away with you, a chunk of me felt torn away. The agony wasn’t just an emotion, it was almost physical torture. The first few weeks were just the worst, I –.”

Overwhelmed, Aman pulled himself up short, dragging a hand over his face, tired. His heart, so to speak, had recognised that this was still Kartik – his eyes gave him away. The sombre dressing, covering of his tattoos and were what made all the difference and he didn’t understand where all this stemmed from. He met the taller man’s eyes and the anger ebbed somewhat. It was jarring, to see him so downcast and dull. Nonetheless, Aman waited, letting Kartik collect his thoughts, summon an explanation that would suffice. Now that he had the man in front of him, Aman wasn’t about to let him go without this, at least. He watched, a tad nervous, as Kartik shut his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. This was it, the expression read, and Aman gestured to a nearby bench. Taking a seat, knees almost touching, he kept his gaze fixed on Kartik, expectant.


	3. Stargazers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aman has a choice to make - will it be the right one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, even I, the author, cannot explain this.

Aman couldn’t help the concern that surged through him at the sight of Kartik like this. Yes, they hadn’t spoken in years but never before had he seen him so hesitant or unsure with him. He resisted the urge to reach out and lay a hand over his clenched fists – it might have the opposite effect and make Kartik withdraw further and that wouldn’t do. After a few moments, Kartik looked up and what Aman saw disarmed him completely, rendering him speechless. He’d only seen this expression once before and that it was so clearly replicated now struck fear through him. For a fleeting, Aman wanted to end this conversation, this demand before it had even begun. Whatever he was about to hear wasn’t worth bringing either of them this degree of pain. Before he could act on this thought, however, Kartik’s hushed voice broke the strained silence.

“There’s a reason I go by Ayan R, not Kartik Singh. After what happened in Allahabad, I couldn’t afford to act as I did. We were lucky and I recognised that, believe me. But what if things had been completely different? When the police came, I remember feeling panic like never before. We hadn’t come this far for everything to come crashing down – .”  
At that last word, Kartik’s voice cracked and Aman threw caution to the wind and reached out to clasp his shoulder. He could understand all too well. He remembered how that one act of courage, borne of weariness and frustration on part of his Chaman chacha, saved them all. His father’s support, though somewhat stilted had been a stroke of luck and it was a matter of timing that the decriminalisation was just around the corner. Had their circumstances been different in any way, only God knows what the outcome would have been. At Aman’s touch, his encouragement, Kartik gathered his composure and continued.

“I’m so thankful for Shankar uncle, that he accepted you, accepted us, but those long moments where the rod came down on me over and over, your yells.. that memory lingered on and refused to let itself be erased. When we returned to Delhi, I couldn’t have been happier. It was only after all the euphoria had worn off that reality kicked in. I hadn’t listened to you and inadvertently, you’d been outed, largely due to me. You weren’t ready and whatever we did after that incident was damage control. Damage that I caused.”

Aman saw in that last sentence that Kartik held onto guilt that he never should have staked claim to in the first place. Ruefully, he shook his head, a small smile on his face. Noticing Kartik’s confusion, he sought to elaborate, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. The memory of that line, said so earnestly, returned crystal clear, their weight and significance undeniable.

“How is it that you can extend love and forgiveness, a helping hand to everyone else but yourself? Above all else, you’re the one who needs it the most. Bhool gaye, itni aasaani se? You were the one who’d said to me, and I quote: ‘Jo tere papa kar rahe hai, usme teri koi galti nahi.’ Who baat sirf Shankar Tripathi ko thodi apply hota hai, it’s for wider society too! Why should you hold yourself responsible for my father’s reaction, or for anyone else’s for that matter? You told me not to, why doesn’t the same apply to you? Haan, who sab unexpected tha, lekin mujhe yeh baat samjha, bas. How are Ayan and Allahabad connected?”

Aman saw the fear begin to creep back in a stemmed it with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. He saw the tension ebb away and pulled away slightly. Kartik was relieved that this conversation was happening at all and decided he couldn’t delay the removal of the proverbial band aid. It was now or never.  
“What I’d gone through as a teenager, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. What happened in Allahabad, that too, no matter how good the outcome was. The journey was tumultuous and so fucking scary, each step was uncertain and -.”

Slowly, the heavy fog began to clear away and the pieces seemed to slot together. With this clarity came a sense of dread. Aman could hazard a guess as to where this was going but the biggest question still remained unanswered and he was beginning to re-evaluate whether he wanted to know the answer to it at all. Yet, he tried to ignore this and waited for the other shoe to drop. As Kartik spoke, becoming lost in the past, he began to trace shapes over his forearm and Aman recognised it as a sign of his anxiety, the familiarity of the gesture taking him aback.

“I knew this of course, and you do too, that not everyone is blessed with a family like yours. Abusive environments, or people being disowned altogether for something that’s beyond their control. Something that doesn’t need to be changed in the first place. I – I knew I had to try and make a difference, however small. I wanted to give young people a safe space, a haven to turn to. And that’s where everything began. In some ways, Allahabad, that whole megaphone situation was the beginning of it all. But even I can’t justify to myself why it involved pushing you away. Sitting here now, the logic doesn’t add up and – Well. This ‘field’ is dangerous and there’s no mincing that. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that trying to ensure their safety would mean putting myself in danger. And at the time, I thought it best to completely re-invent myself. That meant leaving Kartik behind, and the life he has. I had to ensure no one could find out who I am, who you are. If anything happened to you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself any longer.”

He was cut short by Aman getting up, a blank look on his face. The man turned on his heel and walked off. Worried, Kartik stood up o follow him and only caught up with his long, hurried strides at the exit of the hall, near the car park. Reaching out, he grasped Aman’s forearm, forcing them to make eye contact. Aman was about to speak when he heard a familiar voice over the speakers: Kartik’s. The opening line ‘Woh kehte hai ishq hadd mein karo’ and the words died in his throat.

The song continued and it took one glance at the man stood before him for him to know what this was. It was their song, their anthem. The lyrics had been scribbled onto post it notes and left all over the house till Aman had bothered to consolidate them on a sheet of paper. He never thought there’d be a final product and really, hearing it now spoke volumes, filling the tense silence between them. In that moment, Aman switched gears and held out his hand for Kartik’s phone. Wordlessly, he unlocked it and handed it over. Aman stared at the home screen, transfixed, thumb stilling over the Notes application. He remembered this moment clear as day. They’d been hanging out with Devika and Ravi at the latter’s flat and she’d caught them mid laugh, free and uncaring. The joke itself was ridiculously improper and had them both in splits, though it was Kartik who’d cracked it in the first place. Aman couldn’t help the smile that came onto his face at the sight of this photo, that too in this capacity. Knowing he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him, he typed out what he needed to and handed the phone back to Kartik, letting their fingers meet for just a second. He pointedly refuse to acknowledge the sparks that tingled along the length of his arm, the goosebumps and dopamine rush he’d always felt around this man. Clearly, time and distance had done nothing to dim his impact and Aman didn’t know what to make of it.

Turning, he made his way back to his car and spared Kartik one last glance, the sight thawing his heart just a little. Evidently, he’d read the note, the arrangement for tomorrow, for there was hope in his eyes that shone like a beacon, easy to see despite the space between them. Giving him a small smile and a nod, Aman willed himself to actually get into his vehicle and drive away. All the way home, their conversation, Kartik’s sincere explanation, ran circles in his mind.

The journey itself was quite short, considering how late it had become but Aman still felt the suffocation grip him and on returning home, went straight to the balcony. The vast expanse before him calmed him a little and akin to many sleepless night before this, he found himself gazing up at the night sky. This time, everything was turned on its head and Aman begged for guidance, a sign as to what he should do next. Meeting Kartik entirely out of the blue, like this, had shaken him to the core. It was as if a floodgate had opened and once more, everything around him reminded him of Kartik, of how lonely he was. Aman eased the death grip he had on the railing and looking down proved to be another mistake. He remembered standing in this very spot, Kartik by his side, hands entwined and resting against this very barrier. Shaking himself out of that all too vivid recollection, Aman pushed away and headed inside, straight to his room to try and get some sleep.


	4. Rewrite The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair make a (not so) difficult choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd posted the first chapter of 'Cosmos' after Hozier and Alex's live for the ISPCC. I'd decided on Kartik's reasons well beforehand but the timing of this livestream and what I was introduced to was a happy coincidence.  
> This piece is dedicated to Taps and Shivangi (ayushmannbhava on here) - it was their first AU that inspired 'Cosmos', after all! Your support and love has been invaluable these past months, love you, bros x
> 
> The playlist for this piece is in the note after the chapter - the reasons for these titles lie there :)
> 
> Thank you for the love you've given 'Cosmos'!
> 
> Dhyan x

The next day arrived all too soon and Kartik genuinely didn’t know what to expect. He got through his morning routine on autopilot and made his way to the café. Stepping through, he was overwhelmed by the memories, the countless hours they had spent here. In many ways, this place had been witness to the most significant milestones of their relationship: the first date, the request to move in, the day they helped Devika elope, and so much more. Within seconds, he spotted Aman and Kartik took a moment to admire the man.

He'd propped his chin up with a fist and was gazing out of the window. His features were placid, expression giving nothing away. It didn’t escape his notice that the table was their regular one but Kartik didn’t allow the warmth of this familiarity to give him any false hopes. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves, he made his way to Aman. The change in the other man was noticeable and Kartik tried his best to react outwardly. He chose not to look up as he reached the table but could feel Aman’s eyes on him till he was seated. Knowing there was no point in trying to ignore someone sat opposite you, Kartik summoned up the last dredges of his courage and looked up.

The silence stretched between them, a multitude of emotions on both their faces. It was on the cusp of becoming awkward when Aman broke eye contact and called for a waiter and placed his order. Kartik too, asked for his usual – that was one thing that would never change. In his peripheral vision, he saw a flash of surprise cross Aman’s face before it vanished again. Neither of them spoke until their drinks arrived and Kartik was thankful for the same. He’d require it as a prop, feeling somewhat vulnerable without it. Which could be considered ridiculous considering how uninhibited he’d been about 8 hours ago. Now, he took this time to try and gather his wandering thoughts. Frankly, they’d both changed, which was to be expected. But where do they go - 

“So, where do we go from here?”

For a moment, Kartik thought he’d spoken out loud only to realise it wasn’t his voice. Returning to reality, he met Aman’s inquisitive gaze. He considered their options and when he’d exhausted every avenue, there was only one left. Coming to that realisation wasn’t pleasant, if he were honest with himself. Aman must’ve twigged when Kartik made his decision for he saw the sentiment reflected in Aman’s knowing look, the slight nod of his head in agreement. This was a strange middle ground where they weren’t quite strangers, yet the term friends was wildly inaccurate. There was too much history to forget but in their time of knowing one another, there was also the glaringly obvious 2 year blank. Kartik’s head began to feel fuzzy as he mulled over the contradictions, so he tried to answer the question out loud instead.

“Um, I really don’t know.”

Aman didn’t know what to make of the answer. In fact, a part of him was still trying to make sense of last night. After two years of silence, distance and unfamiliarity, yesterday strayed from the norm a great deal. Their breakdowns were unexpected, sure, but who could blame them? To touch one another again, to be attuned to the other’s emotions to that degree had been unsettling. For Aman, seeing Kartik look nothing like the man he knew, to finally have a conversation was unexpected. Really, what were the chances of them meeting like that? Yet, it had happened and the ache in his chest, if nothing else, helped confirm it. A voice in his head whispered on loop that he’d forgiven Kartik already, lest he forget it for even a moment. But that was the easy part. The impediment was with forgetting what he’d been through. That didn’t seem to be possible, really.

Discovering Ayan was actually Kartik only aggravated the conflict between Aman’s heart and mind. Yesterday, his heart had gone out to his ex and a part remained with him still. Getting the answers made him feel worse, bereft somehow. Inexplicably, in seeking direction, he ended up feeling utterly lost and confused. It’s why he’d decided to schedule their meet up today. Kartik held the reins, and now, Amana left it to him. Looking at him now, he could practically see the gears in his mind whirring. When he looked up and met Aman’s eyes, he knew the other man had arrived at the same juncture. Yet, the response indicated a similar hesitation, evading the inevitable and once again, Aman found his resolve wavering a little. Was he ready to do this?

Kartik knew what to do, what the right choice was. It was inconsequential that his mind was protesting this, that his chest ached at the prospect. He owed it to Aman, to himself to walk this path. But good Lord did he wish that things were different, that he’d handled things any other way. It was his fault, really. He’d caused Aman to doubt himself, the strength of their relationship and worse, question the degree of trust between them? Why hadn’t he told him? It’s a question that had plagued him most days and all nights. Seeing Aman yesterday had reduced the dam, the walls to dust and now, Kartik felt worse than before. To see the destruction he’d caused, the change in the man that sat in front of him now, it was nothing short of death.

There was no denying any longer that they simply weren’t the same anymore. Thus, it was naïve and foolish to expect them to go back to what and who they were before. It was unnerving that they could read each other so well but neither acknowledged this. Reaching out, Kartik close a hand over Aman’s and squeezed gently. He didn’t pull away, not immediately and so, Kartik let the contact remain.

“Before dating, we were friends and I’d be a fool to let that go. I don’t know if we’ll ever get back into a relationship just yet, or in the near future. And if I’m reading this right, you’re in the same boat, na? I’ll admit, there’s a part of me that’ll always hold that kind of love for you, no matter what happens, wherever we end up. It would be a mistake for me to pretend I can live without you in my life. I can’t remember who I used to be before I met you and I can’t imagine this new future without you, in whatever capacity. So, what do you say?”

Kartik couldn’t have phrased it better if he tried and couldn’t help the faint smile that came onto his lips at being acquainted with Aman’s manner of speech once more. He’d never been keen on verbal expression but whenever he chose to speak, each word was weighted and worth remembering. A soft clearing of a throat brought Kartik out of his memories and he focused on Aman again. There was a light blush on his cheeks and there was doubt in his eyes. Kartik took a deep breath and tried to relax. This was it. Clearing his throat, he had to force the words out but the broad smile he received in return seemed to make it worthwhile.

Kartik had to hold back a gasp of surprise as Aman came forward and hugged him. He hadn’t expected this but returned the embrace, basking in the warmth of the gesture and their proximity, tightening his grip a little before letting go. In a move reminiscent of last night, he took the initiative and held out his hand for Aman’s phone. It took a moment and Kartik held back a smile at the faint confusion but then, the device was in his hand and Kartik did what he’d intended to. The home-screen was a candid shot of them and that it was so similar to his own made him smile. This too, was Devika’s doing and he looked up to meet Aman’s amused glance, the understanding warming his heart. Kartik typed out his address in the Notes app and returned the phone.

It was after they’d left the café and he was on his way home that Kartik came to a realisation. They’d taken the right call, no doubt about it now. Neither of them knew where the road ahead lead, but it was comforting to have the other by their side once more. And truly, it had been the foundation of their dynamic, the reassuring presence of another person, knowing that there was someone who had your back at all times. The rest of the way home, he had a spring in his step and smile on his face, knowing Aman would be in the same state. Kartik firmly believed that the universe had conspired for this to happen and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Chan Kitthan - Ayushmann Khurrana, Rochak Kohli  
> Cosmic Love - Hozier (cover) - Originally by Florence + the Machine  
> Intezaari (Article 15) - Armaan Malik  
> How To Be Lonely - Rita Ora  
> Raakh - Arijit Singh (for obvious reasons!)  
> You Are The Reason - Calum Scott, Leona Lewis [incredible voices!]  
> Tere Bina Zindagi Se - Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar


End file.
